


Rehab

by melanie1982



Category: Joey McIntyre - Fandom, Jordan Knight - Fandom, NKOTB - Fandom, New Kids On The Block, various original female characters - Fandom
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Bondage, Comfort, F/M, Humiliation, M/F, M/M, Multi, Pain, Redemption, Substance Abuse, Torture, bodily substances, m/m - Freeform, m/m/f, pee play/watersports, withdrawals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-06-06 22:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6773485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jordan's lost it all: his marriage, his place in the band, his money, his very soul.</p><p>The downward spiral that brought him so low isn't what matters now; what matters is what he does next. He's hit rock-bottom, and the only way is up - with a little help from his friend. </p><p>In the belly of the hell-pit, it's good to know who'll try to pull you out - or, failing all else, stand with you and be consumed by the flames.</p><p>Sometimes, it's a little of both.</p><p>Fiction. Don't know these people in real life. I make no money from this story.</p><p>TRIGGER WARNINGS! Please read the tags before proceeding! Thanks</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Help

Jordan opened his eyes by degrees. The palest wash of daylight had managed to seep in through the multiple layers of black-out fabric hanging from the windows, and even that small amount of light was too much for him. Eyelids heavy, he let them slide shut once more, but sleep would not come for him now. His body had expelled much of the toxin over the course of the night, and now all that was left was the gnawing need to be refilled, to blot out the pain.. A hand, not his own, caressed his cheek. It wasn't his wife's, either. A scent filled his nostrils; it was welcome and familiar, yet Jordan couldn't quite place it. His mouth tried to form words, tongue ungluing itself from the inside of his cheek, but his voice was hoarse, as if he'd spent hours singing.. or screaming.

It came to him in drips and drops, last night trickling back to him in slow motion. He'd been at a bar, ready to drink until he blacked out, not caring what happened to him. What more did he have to lose other than his life? With his relapse, he'd lost his place on the tour; his wife had left for the final time, taking his money with her; and he didn't want to face another day, yet lacked the courage to finish things. Addiction was slow suicide, and it would have to do.

The fragrance intensified as the caress was repeated, and Jordan remembered. It was Davidoff's 'Cool Water,' one of Joey's signature scents. Having more than one signature scent was technically breaking the rules, but Joe was known for breaking rules.

"Joey?" Jordan had found his voice, forming questions somewhere in the sloshing of his mind, but letting them idle. 

"I'm here." Joey the clown, the one they laughingly referred to as a Joker, was being serious, nurturing, even - and it was unnerving. In answer to the questions yet unasked, Joey went on: "I found you at the bar. I brought you here, to keep you safe. You need help, Jordan. It's bad - worse than it's ever been."

Jordan remembered everything he'd tried to forget. He counted up all that he'd lost, and the nausea hit him in the solar plexus, his body heaving. He tried to sit up, but couldn't, and that's when Joey helped him, rolling him onto his side to vomit into a bucket placed beside the bed for that purpose.

When it had passed, Joey smoothed the hair which had matted with night-sweat to Jordan's forehead. He held a water bottle up to Jordan's lips, making him take slow sips. Jordan still felt uneasy, but Joe made a good nurse, soothing him with subtle sounds and soft words. He let his body fall flat once more, trying to focus on the ceiling in the near-darkness.

"It's going to be alright, Jordan. I'm going to take care of you. We're gonna get through this - together."

The questions in his mind continued to swirl, but weariness put them on hold. He didn't even know where he was, but he knew enough to believe he was safe.


	2. W-I-T-H-D-R-A-W-A-L

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey fills Jordan in on what's going to happen next. Detoxing is a bitch.

The next time Jordan opened his eyes, the light was brighter, edging its way around the makeshift curtains. Joey was seated beside him, waiting, a bottle of bright blue liquid in his hands. Jordan began to feel that familiar urge, his mouth watering; Joey must have brought him something good, something -

"You're awake," his younger friend said. Jordan wondered why Joey would keep blue liquor in a plastic bottle, then decided it didn't matter. "Here. Brought you something."

Jordan tried to reach out for the container, but his hand felt.. wrong. Peering to his left, he saw the reason: his wrist was bound to the bedpost. A quick glance to the right told him his other wrist was identically restrained. "Joey?"

Joey unscrewed the cap of the bottle, then held it at an angle. Jordan lifted his head, craned his neck to take a sip, dribbling the stuff down his chin and onto his shirt. He made a face.

"What IS that stuff??"

Joey smiled, but it was laced with pain. "Some generic Gatorade, with a few added ingredients. You'll need nutrients as your body expels the poisons."

"Poisons? Was I - was I drugged?"

A shake of the head. "No, Jordan. The toxins you've put into your own body. Alcohol is a poison; that's science, not opinion."

Jordan frowned. "All of us drink, Joe - even Danny. Come on."

Joey was urging his friend to take another sip, but Jordan turned his head away. "Yes, all of us drink. But not all of us try to drink ourselves to death." Joey had to pause here, for the emotions rising inside him threatened to make him lose control. This was his band-brother, his rival, his friend, all wrapped up into one. Jordan couldn't see what Joey saw: the bags under his eyes, the sallow skin, the bloating.. Without intervention, Jordan was going to do permanent damage.

"Untie me. Joe. This isn't funny. You need to - just, come on. Where are the others? My brother? You let me out of here, and I mean, right now, and I'll pretend this.. thing, never happened." Jordan moved against the restraints to underline what he was referring to.

"The others designated me to do this for you. I accepted. I'm going to keep you here until you're clean, and probably a little longer than that." Joey wanted to say more; Jordan could FEEL it - but he didn't elaborate.

"This is abduction. This is insane! You are committing a felony right now, Joey!"

"I can't let you die, Jordan."

Jordan felt the tears of helplessness welling up. "Why not? My family has given up on me. My own blood. The rest of the band has left me to you. I have nothing left."

"You have me. I can't control any of that other stuff; you KNOW why you were dropped from the tour. You knew you were at that point, that they were going to say something - "

"I need to perform. It's all I've ever done, all I've ever been good at. Now it's been taken away from me."

"No. Don't put this on externals. YOU drank, Jordan. YOU showed up late, or not at all; YOU flubbed your lyrics; YOU stumbled on stage.."

Joey had not raised his voice, not once. Jordan, however, was becoming panicked, and his voice betrayed that fact.

"I'm sorry, Jordan. This is going to be difficult for you - for both of us. But I'm not going to give up on you. Whatever you think of yourself, or whatever anyone outside these walls thinks of you - doesn't matter to me. I'm going to fight for you, to save you."

Jordan was waiting for the punch-line, but it never came. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, nothing had changed. He tried taking slow, even breaths. Joey watched the blue stain rise and fall with his chest, watched as it set into the fabric. 

"You're going to have to let me up to use the bathroom, Joe. Or to move around; it's not safe to stay in bed for hours, days at a time, in one position."

Joey had already planned for all of that. "You'll be able to move around, but you won't be able to escape. You don't even know where we are, do you?"

Joey watched confusion and anger tangle on Jordan's face. "No. Where are we?"

"When it's time to leave, you'll find out."

Jordan looked around, seeing no phone, no clock, no television, no computer. There was a sofa, a small table with two chairs, and some other items draped in sheets. More furniture, he guessed. There was a doorway leading out, but he couldn't see that far. 

"There's a bathroom here, and a small kitchen. We have everything we need."

'We'? 

"I'm not staying here, Joe. I can't."

"You said you had nothing left. You wanted to die. Why do you care if you're stuck here? What's waiting for you?"

A drink. Several drinks. Limitless drinks, all lined up, stretching into forever like the vanishing point in a painting.

"No more, Jordan. Not even one. You can't. Now drink this."

Jordan decided that maybe if he played along for a while, Joey would relax and slip up, or even cave in. Yeah; that could work.

It was impossible to definitively measure the passage of time there. The only clue that hours had passed was the changing of the light. Jordan was sweating profusely, and it hadn't yet been twenty four hours. He knew from experience that things would get worse before they got better, and the panic hit him in waves. 

"What are we going to do to pass the time, Joey? There's nothing here."

"You can exercise, you can shower, you can talk. Mostly talk. We need to figure out what got you to this point."

Jordan really didn't want to touch that. He took several long draws from the bottle, knowing he'd need it to replace the fluids he was losing through sweat.

"Joey, it's too painful. It's.." He hadn't confided in anyone about the things that were bothering him; there was too much at stake. Now that he'd self-sabotaged his life, he had little left to lose - but if Joey abandoned him, he'd really be a goner.

"Trouble at home?"

Jordan sighed, his wrists reflexively testing the restraints. He wanted to run a hand through his hair, but couldn't. He knew that, when things started to get really bad, he'd need to be held down for his (and Joey's) safety, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

"Joey, my man, you have no idea."

\--------------------------------------------

Evening of the first day came slowly. Joey had talked himself almost hoarse, and Jordan wasn't far from it himself. After working out the logistics of how he'd go to the bathroom (Joey agreed to let Jordan try it on his own, on the understanding that if he got violent or tried to break anything/harm himself, Joey would reduce him to using a bedpan), Jordan had used the facilities without incident. Everything was subject to change, though, as the cravings intensified. Joey was a skilled knots-man, and wouldn't hesitate to use that skill to protect his friend.

"I can't. Joey.."

"You've told me about so many of your problems. I know we haven't gotten to the root of it all yet." Joey decided some positive reinforcement was in order. "You're doing really well, J. I know it's tough, but it'll be worth it. No problem, no secret, however scary, is worth dying for."

Tears again. "I know that, Joe. I know."

"Do you? Then why won't you tell me? You know just about every embarrassing or awful thing about me; you've been there for over half of my life. I don't believe in keeping things bottled up." 

Jordan latched onto the word 'bottle', his mind wandering.. So far, all he'd had to eat were foods approved for a liquid diet: broth, Jello, smoothies. When Joey said 'detox,' he MEANT detox. Pushing fluids would help speed up the process, but his body was screaming at him for his other addiction: food.

Well, that wasn't quite accurate. He had one other, well-hidden (or so he thought) addiction.

He wasn't ready to face it yet. He thought again how he'd rather die. That was the easy way, the coward's way. 

"Jordan." Joey caressed his arm, which was tired from being locked in the same position for so many hours, with so few breaks. "We need to get you up and moving. Can you do that?"

He felt light-headed, but his body was so heavy and stiff. "Yeah. I could.. yeah."

Joey treated Jordan like the wounded animal he was, gentling him, yet maintaining firm control. The younger man was in phenomenal shape, and wouldn't hesitate to put that strength and coordination to work should the need arise. Jordan promised to behave, and Joey untied one rope from the bedpost, then the other. 

"Okay. Arms up. Stretch." Jordan did so, feeling his muscles groaning back to life.

"Hold. Hold. Flex your wrists, wiggle your fingers. Good. Now, put your arms down. Swing them back and forth; get that full range of motion."

This was like the cruise 'work-out' classes, only weirder. And one on one. And completely embarrassing.

"Good. Now circles." Jordan found it difficult to get the coordination at first, though he was no longer over the legal limit as far as blood alcohol level. Eventually, he got it.

"Now march in place. Get those knees up. Up, up, up." Jordan wasn't used to following orders like this, least of all from Joey, and the resentment started to build little by little. Still, it was good to be moving, and he didn't want to lose the privilege. As if reading his thoughts, Joey said, 

"If things don't go smoothly with this, I can work your body one area at a time while you remain tied down. Even bed-bound people can do physical therapy exercises; don't think I'm bluffing."

Joey didn't sound angry, exactly, just very.. authoritative. That tone got to Jordan on a balls-and-guts level, and a shiver ran through him. They continued like that, Joey giving instructions on how to move, Jordan following them to the best of his ability. He hadn't exerted himself much, but he was already tired.

"Alright. Good work. Time to clean you up."

"Excuse me?" Jordan had been in the same clothes for two days in a row, and he was starting to smell. Sweating out the booze wasn't helping.

Joey nonchalantly slid open a drawer beneath the bed, removing two oversized towels. Jordan felt his mouth go dry.

"Joey? I don't need an extra.."

He trailed off as the younger man began to peel off his shirt, dropping it onto the floor. Next he was undoing his belt, and Jordan wanted to bolt.

"Joe?"

"Come on, man. Let's get this over with."

Jordan's eyes zeroed in on his friend's hands, the hands currently undoing the fly of Joey's jeans. Pulling them down past his hips, over his thighs, letting them pool around his ankles. Joey was - 

He quirked a brow. "Jordan, do you need help? You're untied; you can undress yourself."

"I.. I shower alone."

Joey shook his head. "Jordan, you need supervision right now. This is a critical time in the process, and I can't risk you falling or hurting yourself. It's not a big deal."

But it was to Jordan. "Seriously, I'll be fine. You can stand right outside the door the whole time."

Jordan had rushed that last sentence so that it sounded like one long word; so desperate was he to keep the other man from stripping totally naked. Joey had his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his smalls when he stopped.

"Why are you acting so weird about it? We've all changed in front of each other before. Even Jon. If he doesn't have an issue with it, I don't see why.. you.."

Jordan was fumbling with his own clothes, the ropes sliding through the sleeves of his shirt as he pulled it off over his head. Joey decided he'd need to at least wrap the length of rope around each arm to keep it out of the way during the shower. Jordan refused to make eye contact now, and Joey felt he knew why, but he had to tread carefully.

"Does this have something to do with what you're not telling me? The big, bad secret that got you drinking again?"

Jordan paled, then blushed. His voice was so small and broken in the hushed room: "Maybe."

Jordan was stripped to the waist, his fly undone, and Joey moved to help him. Jordan took a step back.

"No."

"No?"

"Just.. don't touch me. Not like that. I can't.. I can't deal."

Joey ran a hand over Jordan's shoulder, down his arm, reaching his hand and taking loose hold of it. When he caressed each finger with his own, Jordan wavered.

"It's okay. It's just me. It's just Joey."

That touch wasn't sexual - people shook hands, high-fived, whatevered, all the time - but when Joey touched him there, it was different. "It's not okay."

Jordan still needed a shower, and, truth be told, so did Joey. He couldn't risk showering alone, giving Jordan a chance to run. "Shower-time, J. Don't make me sing the song."

Jordan met his gaze. "The song?"

"Yeah. Actually, come with me, and I'll sing it for you. It'll be fun."

Jordan's curiosity won out, and he followed. He kept his eyes on the floor of the tub as Joey finished undressing, and then he removed the last of his own clothing.

"Just.. I'm out of shape, okay? Don't judge me." He'd been over-indulging in food, too, and was now self-conscious to be seen naked. Joey thought that Jordan was the best-looking 'out of shape' guy he'd ever seen, but said nothing, other than a reassuring 

"No sweat."

Jordan studied that tub intently as the water reached the right temperature. "Okay, we can get in now." Joey was acting like they did this all the time - or like HE did. Maybe he did; his wife was very understanding..

"Jord? Step over the side of the tub and get in."

He did so, and the hot water felt amazing to his aching, twitching body. As promised, Joey sang. After the perfunctory warm-ups, which made Jordan smile despite his pain, he began.

"I think about you when it's shower-time, and all the good times we'd have, baby.."

Ah, Summertime's melody. That took him back.

"Been a few years and I can't deny, the thought of you makes me get naked.." 

Hmm. Didn't quite rhyme, but Jordan let that go.

"I think about you when it's shower-time, standin' here all wet wit'cha on my mind, my shower-time.."

Jordan couldn't focus on any of the other lyrics. Was Joey hinting at something? Was this a joke, or..?

Jordan had to turn his back to keep from giving in to temptation. "Lean your head back, J." He did so, and Joey began to work shampoo into his hair. It was a simple, loving gesture, not intended to be sexual, but it felt so good, being taken care of. His body responded, and he hoped Joey wouldn't see.

"That's it. Lean back under the spray. You need to get the suds out." Those fingers on his scalp were magic, and he felt himself about to lose his balance. 

"Joey, I'm kinda.. dizzy.."

Joey caught him, holding him up. "Upsy daisy. I'm gonna hold you, just like this. You do the rest."

Strong arms held him up beneath his own, and Jordan rinsed his hair and soaped his body as quickly as he could. 

"What am I going to wear? My clothes are - "

"I've got clothes for you. Relax. I took care of everything."

Jordan wanted to relax, but Joey's proximity was maddening. Luckily the shower ended soon after, before he could say or do anything really stupid. 

Like make a move on one of his best friends, the one who just happened to be trying to save his life, or help him get a new one.

The cravings were strong, wrong, and overlapping, and Jordan needed to be tied down again, for both their sakes.


	3. Still Detoxing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey keeps trying to get at the heart of the matter, and Jordan keeps dancing around it.

It wasn't Joey's fault. Jordan blamed himself, at least when it came to this issue. Joey couldn't have known the effect he had on his friend. No; this was Jordan's weakness, Jordan's shame. His sin.

It had started out years earlier, when Joey was too young for Jordan to have those thoughts for him. They'd always had this.. tension, this rivalry, but it grew into something more complex, more twisted. Jordan used to fantasize about doing things to Joey - not exactly forcing him, but coercing. Seducing. The idea that Joey would want him, would crave him, excited Jordan, as well as boosted his fragile ego. He thought he'd outgrown those feelings, writing them off as a fucked-up fantasy from his hormonal teen years; they were all grown up now, most of them married or paired off, several of them fathers now. The past was the past, stuck in its context, those heady days of having everything at their fingertips: food, alcohol, drugs, sex. It was different now.. right?

It WAS different, but those feelings weren't completely dead. While they were less coercive in nature, they were still around, lurking beneath the surface. As his home life and marriage had unraveled, those feelings had become a refuge, a place to hide. Sure, he'd noticed men here and there; who wouldn't look twice at Robin Thicke?, but nobody had held his attention. The reunion tour had been a blessing and a curse, putting Joey back in his line of sight, within reach, and yet, not.

Joey was just.. Joey. He didn't care who you were or what you had in your underpants; he just wanted to entertain. He wasn't offended by male fans thinking he was hot, so long as they didn't cross the line and get touchy - a rule he held for ALL fans, regardless of gender identity or sexual preference. The man was married, and intended to stay that way. He was raising three young kids, and it wouldn't do for them to see Daddy getting mauled by fans/lovers. Jordan had to be some sort of sicko to want him that way, or to think that out of all the people Joey could be with, he'd pick Jordan. What an ego; what a fool.

Those thoughts went around and around in his head on a loop for days, which turned into weeks, which slid into months. When the band was on break, it was more manageable; there were days when Jordan barely thought of him at all. Then preparation started for the next tour, and the feelings grew. They were layered, six or seven deep, a second skin on the man, and couldn't be peeled off and discarded. Joey got to the heart of him, the quick of him, and it was worse than any drug. The smallest measure of natural affection or the slightest hint of mock-flirtation would inflame Jordan to the point of distraction. Drinking dulled the arousal, at least physically. Emotionally, the pain remained, no matter how wasted he became.

Lust was one thing, but love was quite another. Love made you face yourself, who you were and what you wanted. Love couldn't be rubbed out into a towel or pillowcase in secret and tossed into the laundry, leaving no trace. No. Love rocked you to your core, got under your skin and into your veins and became part of you. Jordan had gotten into porn - het at first, but soon it wasn't enough. F/f didn't fill the hole, so to speak, and so he'd started venturing into m/m. His wife had said nothing for weeks, or perhaps she truly hadn't known. The last straw came when she found the internet search terms he'd forgotten to delete, specifically the 'Joey McIntyre lookalike' search. Everything had made terrible, gut-wrenching sense in that moment, and he couldn't blame her for going off the way she did. How could she compete with a man he worked with, practically lived with for months at a time on tour, a man who knew him as intimately as you could without it getting physical? She had delivered an ultimatum - his marriage or his work - and he had faltered. That hesitation had spoken volumes, and now she was gone. This wasn't like the other times, the other fights; this one had become silent. She'd given up begging, given up threatening, and he hadn't been making promises or asking how to fix things. The silence hurt more than they screaming, and it was so cold and so harsh and so FINAL that it rang in his ears like the slamming of a door. 

Jordan hadn't been able to tell anyone the reason, not even his own brother. Of all people, Jon should've been the one to understand, but Jordan couldn't face it. All the jokes about "JON'S the gay one? I would've guessed Jordan!," or the heaping condemnation Jon dished out to public figures who got caught cheating (because it was emotional adultery, if not literal), or the fact that Jon had tried to broach the subject with him before, every so often, though not specifically in reference to Joey. All his family knew was that the marriage was over. His wife, to her credit, had not divulged to anyone, a fact for which he would be forever grateful; still, the threat loomed large over him, a shadow upon his every waking moment. She had the power to expose him, and as long as the secret remained a secret, there was that fear.

He couldn't tell. If it killed him, so be it. Perhaps he deserved it. She'd get his life insurance money, and his family would be all set for life. No more tortured dreams, no more lusting, no more drinking.. Wouldn't they all be relieved? They'd never have to worry about him again. The four of them could keep going without him. They had enough talent between them; they could - 

"Jordan, where are you, man?"

Joey didn't mean literally, but he could sense that the older man had wandered off someplace dark. He was holding up a lantern, showing him the way out of the maze. All Jordan had to do was follow.

He was dressed in clean, dry clothes, smelling of Joey's detergent, propped against pillows on the bed. It was harder, but not impossible, to tie someone to a couch, and Joey wanted his friend to be comfortable. The sweats were back, but at least he didn't reek. Not yet.

"I.. Sorry. What were you saying?"

Joey shrugged. "I quit talking a few minutes back. I was waiting for you."

"I'm sorry. My mind is.."

His body was shaking. Joey moved to sit beside him, leaving his chair. The chair looked heavy, solid, and Jordan focused on that, rather than the heat emanating from Joey's form.

"Got the shakes already, huh? That's good, though. Get them out of the way. You need more fluids."

Joey reached over to the bedside table to grab the bottle. What would happen to Jordan if Joey became incapacitated? Did anyone else know where they were? Would they come looking for him - for either of them?

Jordan swallowed as much of the blue stuff as he could stand. "It's chalky at the bottom."

Joey shook the bottle, and Jordan felt like a baby. "There. Better?"

Jordan drained the contents, then made a face. "Tastes like dirt, but, yeah. Thanks."

Joey leaned his head onto Jordan's shoulder, and Jordan tensed. 

"Am I hurting you?"

Not hurting, no. Disturbing, distracting, disarming - but not hurting.

"No. I'm just a little jumpy, I guess." His fists clenched and unclenched, feeling the sweat on his palms, the tension in his fingers.

Joey settled in closer. It was almost like they were a couple, snuggling in bed and watching t.v., only.. there was no t.v., and they weren't a couple. How many more ways could Jordan find to torture himself?

"Are you ready to talk yet?"

He sighed. "I don't want to lose the only friend I have left."

"Is it another girl? You've told me a little about that sort of thing in the past. It always blows over." Joey made a wave of his hand, as if it was a trivial matter, just - poof! - gone.

"Not exactly. I.. I got into some habits. Not drugs, nothing illegal. She busted me."

So hot when you get near the flames, yet they're luring you closer..

"Habits like what?"

"Eating too much. Drinking - a lot. I was using the computer a lot."

Joey wondered if he meant dirty DMs again, but figured that would be on his phone, not a computer. "As in, p-o-r-n?"

Jordan looked down. It was easier to talk like this, Joey unable to see his face from that angle. "Yeah."

"Well, was it, you know, bad? Like, non-con, or animals, or - "

"It was all legal, Joe. I don't.. I don't think about anything THAT dark."

Joey let this sink in. "Was it, like, kinky?"

One man's kink was another man's vanilla, Jordan knew. "Define 'kinky.'"

"Come on, man, anything out of the mainstream. Fetishes, age play, bondage.."

Jordan felt a quiver run through his body. Must've been the detoxing. Yeah.

"I'd rather not say."

"I can't help you if you don't let me in." Joey reached up, stroking Jordan's hair, then his face. It was so sweet, and yet, so utterly strange. 

"Joey.." Fuck. He needed a drink. He needed to pee. He needed - 

"Work up to it. Let's take a restroom break." How could the man read his body like that?

Jordan held himself as he peed, acutely aware of the rope still dangling from his wrist. He wondered why Joey didn't just leave the rope attached to the bedpost, then figured it was because it would be easier to subdue him with ropes already in place on his person. He washed his hands, Joey standing sideways by the door, watching without actually 'watching.'

When they settled again on the bed, Joey resumed his position. "It's okay, Jordan. You didn't hurt anyone - well, your wife's feelings, maybe. But physically, porn isn't cheating. It's, like, cheating lite. All the flavor, with only half the calories."

Jordan tried to find that funny, but his nerves were frayed. "It was a lot of it, Joe. A lot. Every day."

Joey had an image of Jordan 'using' porn multiple times a day, but pushed it aside. "Okay. So it was compulsive. You were trying to make up for something, or hide from something. Was it related to work?"

When had Joey become so serious? "Work was going well. I was happy with the new album, and I was excited to be on tour again. You know it's what I love. I can't imagine doing anything else for a living."

Joey understood; he was the same way about performing in general. Acting, singing, dancing - as long as he had an audience, he was content.

"Alright. Was it to do with marital intimacy? Was she not - "

"She was always accommodating, Joe. It wasn't her; it was me."

"Did you have issues with the act itself?"

He should've been insulted, but it was a fair question. "No. Never." Joey nodded, accepting this.

"No. Can we talk about something else?"

His friend nodded. "You're doing well, Jordan. You are. It takes a lot to admit to one's failings. We WILL be coming back to that, though."

Jordan knew they would. After another cup of broth and some Jello, it was time for sleep. Jordan didn't understand how his body could be so tired and his mind so alert at the same time.

"It's part of it. You're doing this without medicine. I didn't want you to go through the side effects or withdrawals of any of the pills. Things will get worse before they get better."

Jordan believed it. Every cell was crying out for junk food and alcohol. On top of that, he hadn't cum in almost.. two days? Three? The shower hadn't helped.

"Get some sleep. One day down, Jordan."

How many more to go?


	4. My Baby's Got A Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan finds out he isn't the only one who's been living a secret double life...

The next two days, Joey focused on exercise. On a logical level, Jordan knew it would help him work out some of his agitation, as well as speed up the release of toxins - but it also underscored his helplessness. He lacked coordination, and it was difficult to concentrate thanks to the tremors. "It feels like someone's pulling plugs in my brain and re-wiring everything," he complained to Joey. The younger man was insistent, in a loving sort of way - a mixture of cheerleader and drill sergeant. 

By day four, Joe had switched tactics. If Jordan didn't want to walk, then he could talk. Joe picked his brain for hours, trying to get to the heart of the matter, and more than once, Jordan idly thought that Joey would make a good detective, on or off screen. Still, he wouldn't crack.

On day five, Joey was less intensive with the questions. Jordan was feverish, and rest was needed. Joey was.. affectionate, petting him, soothing him. Jordan toyed with fantasies of escape, of what he'd do when he got out of here. He was too weak to fight that day, and it was sort of .. pleasant to have someone baby him. As evening fell on the fifth day, Jordan began to hallucinate, seeing things out of the corner of his eye, nebulous forms and floating lights. Then the auditory illusions started, Jordan hearing the voices of people still living, people who were probably miles away from his location.

"Joey, am I gonna die?"

"No, Jordan, you're not gonna die. You FEEL like death, I know, but you'll make it. Trust me." Joey had been keeping track of J's pulse at various times, day and night; any significant drop or spike, and they'd be headed for the nearest E.R. Joe wished he'd invested in a blood pressure cuff, but it was too late to think of it now.

"Have you .. Are you even in contact with anyone outside of this place?," Jordan wanted to know. He was speaking from a fully reclined position, a cold wet cloth draped over his eyes and forehead to ease his headache. Joey wouldn't give him anything stronger than ibuprofen, aware of his past issues with pain meds.

"Not at the moment. I have a cell phone hidden in case of emergencies. Relax."

Easier said than done. "I'm going insane, Joey. This is it; it's finally happened.." He described what he was experiencing, and Joe offered his reassurances.

"It's part of it, man. Your brain is freaking out, craving its drug. The misfiring of neurons is part of your brain returning to its *normal, healthy, sober* state." Jordan was fidgety, wanting to get up, but his body wouldn't tolerate movement.

"Just keep those eyes closed. Think of something positive, something that makes you happy."

Jordan could see himself onstage, healthy, sober, ready to perform. It started to feel so real, he could almost hear the music.. and then things shifted. Joey joined him onstage, circling him in time with the beat. The fans were clapping, whistling and cheering at the mock-seduction, Joey beginning to tug at the cuff of J's sleeve, pulling his arm free from the jacket. On the next go-round, Joe pulled the other arm free. Anticipation was building, both on and off stage. Jordan lost his tie on the next orbit, followed by a hastily-popped shirt button. At the last turn, the shirt was pulled open from top to bottom, exposing J's chest. Joey slid himself down Jordan's body, his back to J's front, before turning to face him and repeating the move. Jordan's mouth opened in shock, and Joe took full advantage, breaching the space with his tongue. 

Jordan, for his part, could do nothing, too stunned to move. In reality, J moaned slightly, and Joe reassured him, placing one hand over Jordan's chest, feeling the rhythm of his heart. "It's okay. It's okay. I'm here." Back in the illusion, Joey had dropped to his knees, having landed kisses upon Jordan's chest and stomach along the way. Both Jordans were now achingly hard, dream-Joey undoing his friend's buckle and fly..

"Fuck." Jordan heard his own voice, and Joey snuggled closer, his hand easing down to J's abs. The man's insides lurched with longing; he'd give up a year's worth of shots in exchange for that hand moving down a few more inches, just to squeeze him *there*, just to - 

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Joe's voice was warm and thick, and Jordan blew out a slow breath before trusting himself to speak.

"It's.. it's been a while, Joe. I think.. shit.." One finger forged a trail southward, dragging the fabric of his t shirt against his skin. "Joey, that's so.."

He was pathetic, needy and over-eager, like they were teenagers again. His body jumped, his stomach doing flips and rolls, but not from nausea. The hand rested on his belt, feeling the butterflies beating their wings. 

"Belts are dangerous, J. Maybe I should confiscate this."

Was he being serious? The leather strap being released from its loops made it seem so. A few tugs, and it was off. If Jordan had stood up right then, his pants would have dropped. 

"Think about whatever makes you feel good, Jordan." 

If you only knew, Jordan thought, hoping he hadn't said it aloud. Several minutes passed, and the hand remained on that fluttering stomach. When Jordan at last indicated that he would like to eat, Joey reluctantly unglued himself and went to prepare nourishment. When the meal was over, the two of them settled down to sleep. Joey did not touch him in that way again, and Jordan acutely felt the absence of that loving hand. He had all night to wonder about it, awake or asleep; was it all in his mind, or had Joey been hinting at something? 


	5. Real or Imagined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get (sur)real

Jordan's dreams had been off-the-wall bizarre. When he awoke, Joey was looking at him contentedly, sleep in his eyes. The headache was a dull annoyance now, rather than a soul-crushing vice grip, and the fever had broken. 

"Mornin.' You're up early," Joe teased.

"Am I? What the hell time is it?" The room was still pretty dark, and it was so hard to tell.

"Early." Typical Joe.

Jordan's gnawing hunger was abating, his body adapting to eating healthy amounts rather than excessive ones. He wondered how many more days he'd have to feign submission before Joe would let his guard down. Maybe he'd be allowed to use the restroom on his own? If escape wasn't possible, there were one or two other pressing needs he'd like to address.. 

"Hey Joey? Could I maybe go to the bathroom? I'd like a minute to myself, maybe even a shower - "

"Jordan, you can take care of that here."

"Excuse me?"

"This, Jordan." The younger man's hand cupped J's package, and Jordan almost came on the spot. 

"Joey.. please.."

He bucked within his restraints, Joey's hand easing to the edge of J's waistband. "Do you want me to? If you really don't, the safe word is.. 'popsicle.'"

Jordan's face was scrunched tight, but the images and that *voice* could not be blocked out. "Joey.."

The hand slid beneath the denim, then the cotton, finding skin. Joe's fingers tugged at the curls, making Jordan groan.

"Hm. You don't shave it all like Donnie does. That's interesting."

"Wait - what?"

Another tug, harder. Jordan saw stars.

"We can't do this. You - "

"Let me take care of you."

Why was he fighting it? Guilt? Fear? Maybe pride; he didn't want pity. He wanted love. He wanted to be wanted. Jordan struggled, chafing his wrists, finally managing to free one of them while Joey was distracted by lowering his zipper. By the time he noticed movement, Jordan's other hand was also free, threading through Joe's hair before pulling hard. With his other hand, he pulled himself out from under Joey.

Joe's eyes flashed menace, cold as steel. "Why didn't you use the safe word?"

"I.. I just didn't." Jordan was dizzy, blood roaring in both heads at once. Joe took a step toward him. 

"Get on the bed, Jordan."

"No."

"That isn't the right word."

"Joey.."

"Say it, Jordan, and I'll stop."

He couldn't. His jeans slid to half-mast, giving in to gravity, his cock pointing like a divining rod toward who and what he wanted. With one hand, Joe grabbed him by the wrist, his other hand shoving its way into J's smalls.

"This is what you want." He wasn't being asked a question; he was being TOLD.

"Please.."

"This is what you were running from. Was it men in general, or was it me in particular?" His fingers gripped more tightly - both on J's wrist, and on his junk. "Five days. Five days I've been patient with you, Jordan. You could've died. When I found you, you were in real trouble. For five days, I've fed you, helped you bathe, watched you sleep.. Give me your other hand, Jordan." 

Nothing. Breathing.

Joe released J's cock, grabbing the other wrist. "Arms above your head. NOW."

Jordan, in shock, complied. Joe held them fast with one hand, pulling a bandana from his pocket with the other. The knot was tight; struggling made it tighter.

"Mine." Joey was looking him up and down, his playmate, his property. "Do you deny it?" His hands roamed freely as his eyes had done. If J tried to run, he'd trip, and his hands would be helpless to break his fall. "Aren't you going to say it? One word, and it all ends."

Jordan felt so weak. He didn't know why he was resisting; his dick and his brain were in a heated debate. 

Joey dropped to his knees, breath blowing hot against Jordan's stomach. His tongue scalded an x over the spot, marking it. Claiming it.

"What's the word, J?"

Joey led the man toward the bed at a shuffle, shoving him down on his back. Jordan was ready to cry, though, had he been asked, he wouldn't have been able to articulate the reason.

Just before Joe laid on top of him, Jordan rolled off the bed, landing on his stomach. Bruised and winded, he froze, and Joey seized the moment, hauling him back up - but positioning him face-down.

"Bad boy, Jordan. I'm going to have to punish you."


	6. Fine Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fine line between pleasure and pain

Jordan heard the control in Joey's voice, and it made him hard. A hand gripped the back of his underwear, yanking it down, exposing his ass. A beat later, an open-palmed blow landed squarely across both cheeks.

"Fuck!" Jordan felt the pain melting down, running into pleasure, until he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. The initial sting subsided, only to be replaced by another. After each blow, Joey paused, listening to their breathing and giving Jordan a chance to use the safeword. 

How long did they go on like that? With each strike, Jordan expelled more pain through his cries and more shame through his tears. "This is what you wanted, isn't it, Jordan? This is what you need.." Each landing of Joey's palm shoved Jordan into the mattress, creating friction on his cock - enough to tease, but not to satisfy. 

Joey, for his part, seemed to be enjoying himself: his breathing was labored, his blows, firm and sure. The room was beginning to smell like sex, and neither of them had even fully stripped yet. It was insanity, and yet a part of Jordan wondered why they hadn't thought of this years ago. 

The spanking ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving Jordan writhing and panting on the bed, his hips pushing upward in search of the contact he was now being denied. Joey rolled him over, those cruel eyes shifting until they were soft once more.

"What have you learned, Jordan?"

The man was dumbfounded. Learned? Was he meant to LEARN something from the most erotic experience he'd had to date? He thought for a moment, then took a guess.

"That I'm.. bad." It hit him then - how he felt about himself, and what Joe wanted him to say. 

"Yes. You ARE bad. I can help you. I can train you to be good, but you have to submit to me." Fingers were massaging Jordan's stomach in soothing circles, making Jordan feel loved. Cared for.

Joe was leaning down slowly, easing forward as though Jordan was a spooked stallion, liable to bolt. Jordan turned his face away, just for a fraction of a heartbeat, before letting his friend kiss him full on the lips.

"I'm going to trust you, Jordan. You took your spanking like a good boy, so I'm going to untie you for a little bit." 

The bandana removed, Jordan felt his wrists where it had dug into them, leaving marks like red bracelets. Joey kissed him again, and Jordan felt the panic begin to rise. As a hand slid once more toward the prize, Jordan scrambled off the bed, running for the bathroom door.

It was locked. 

Joey caught up to him in a few slow strides.


	7. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We always hurt the ones we love..

Joey's voice sounded sad, almost pitying. "Oh, Jordan. I wanted to reward you for being obedient, but I see you haven't learned." Jordan tensed, ready to defend himself, but Joey was stronger, taking him down with ease. Jordan was thrashing around, getting rug-burns in interesting places, but his weight was no match for Joe's practiced muscles. "Don't fight me, lover," Joey sneered, but Jordan still wasn't ready to give in. The harder he struggled, the more excited they both seemed to get. When Joe at last had J's wrists pinned above his head, he bound them once more, this time with a blindfold.

"Say it, Jordan."

Jordan bit his lip, tasting blood. "What?"

"Tell me what you want."

"No."

He tried again to wriggle free, to turn over and crawl on his belly, but Joey planted a thigh on either side of J's, straddling him. "You have an addictive personality, Jordan. You bounce from one vice to the next, and they're always harmful. They all come at too high a price."

He leaned in, spelling it out into the skin of Jordan's neck. "You've punished yourself for long enough. Now it's time for ME to punish you, to give you the pain you seek. *I* will be your bartender, your dealer, your feeder; I will give, and you - you, will take."

Jordan found himself on the bed once again, his wrists rubbing raw, the lower half of his body now bare against the cool sheets. His shirt clung to him, sticky with sweat; Joey couldn't remove it without untying his wrists or destroying the shirt, and he was in no mood to do either. "Did you think about me?"

Jordan was about to ask what Joey meant. "Did you get yourself off thinking of me?"

A moan, ending with a whimper. "Yes."

Joey must have liked the answer, for he began to stroke Jordan, making a loose fist and moving up and down in that timeless rhythm.

"Like this?"

"Yeah. But - faster. I did it.. umm.. faster.."

"I decide the pace. Understood?"

Jordan nodded, and was recompensed with a slap across the thigh. "Understood?"

"Yes, Joey."

Maybe this was part of the hallucination. Maybe Joey was asleep, and Jordan was jerking off to a super-vivid fantasy. The hand on his cock didn't feel like his own, and he began to lose himself in how good it was, how new.

"You enjoy suffering. You enjoy pain, the cycle of self-denial and over-indulgence. I can give you both in spades."

Joey's tongue swiped at Jordan's crown as the hand kept working. It was decadent, but fleeting, like a sip of champagne before the glass is whisked away. He needed more.

"To whom do you belong, Jordan?"

He didn't know what to reply. Joey's speech patterns were different, like he was playing a character. Or possessed. Or..

"Huh?"

Who cared about words when they felt this high? 

"You belong to your Master. Say it."

"I .. " The hand slowed, and Jordan swallowed. "I belong to you, Master."

"Very good. If you learn quickly, you'll be rewarded." His mouth dipped down once again, taking Jordan between his lips, sliding on and off that way a few times and making Jordan crazy.

"Fuck.. yeah.."

The headache was drowned out by mounting tension, the climbing, grasping need for release.

"Do you want the pleasure?"

"Y-yes.. Yes, please, Master."

Joey cocked his head to one side. "Then you must also take the pain."

With that, he lunged forward, straight towards J's neck, biting hard. Jordan's rod jerked, seeking touch, finding none. "Master.. please.."

Joey resumed stroking, interspersed with licks and teasing sucks. Jordan was frantic, ready to promise anything if he could only cum.

"Please.."

Joey mouthed his balls, kissing and licking there, then focusing on J's thighs. The hand was moving too slowly, too loosely, Jordan's hips thrusting upward to meet more friction. 

"Tell me what you thought about."

Fuck.

"Master, you already.. You must have guessed."

The hand stopped. Jordan thought his heart would hammer a hole through his chest.

"Tell me."

Joey began to rummage through the under-bed drawer as Jordan tried to find the words. A squirt of cold lube hit his cock from above, and he moaned. "I thought about kissing you. I thought about.. touching your body.."

"Be specific."

"I wanted to stroke your cock, make you hard, get you off. I wanted to suck you." Jordan was finding his voice. "I wanted to - to - "

The hand had started to slide over his rod again, but as he stopped, so did the pressure.

"I wanted to fuck you."

Joey looked at him until Jordan met his gaze. "You? Fuck me?" Another search through the drawer. Jordan didn't know what the new device was, but it looked ominously 'o' shaped.

The cock ring fit snugly without causing too much discomfort. Joey began to stroke harder, knowing the cock ring would delay orgasm. "So good.. yeah.."

"You're not done telling me what you thought about, what you did.."

"I got off to you in the shower, imagining you fucking your fist.. soaking wet.."

"Did you now?"

"Yes. Master."

"Did you think about me when you had sex?"

Shit. The ring felt tighter now, making him gasp. 

"Sometimes. Yeah."

"Did you fuck her in the ass?"

A tortured groan. "Once. Just once. It felt - damn.."

"It felt like what?"

"So tight. So hot. The way I imagine.."

Joey began to sweep his cupped palm over Jordan's crown on the down-stroke. This progressed to one hand working the shaft while the other polished the head.

"Jo - Master.. yeah.. The way I imagine you would feel.."

"You have to earn the right to fuck me. I'll gladly fuck you, and you'll take it - but you won't fuck me unless you prove your worth."

Jordan was panting, his skin impossibly sensitive to every touch. He didn't have a name for the color of his cock right now; it was dark, swollen, ready to burst.

Joey swiped at it with his tongue, relishing the older man's cries. "Fuck yeah. Fuckfuckfuckfuckjustlikethat.." 

Joey let go, moving up to kiss Jordan's mouth. His hands raked fingernails down J's arms, digging into his pits, then along his sides, stopping at his hips. Joey was killing him, and all he wanted to do before he died was get off.

The nails moved back up to square one, following the same path. Joey's body pressed against his, causing pain, but pain was better than the absence of stimulation. 

It seemed that every part of him became more sensitive to compensate for the lack of direct genital contact. His nipples were more responsive; so was the stretch of skin between his chest and his cock, and Joey took great delight in teasing him. 

"What are you doing?" Jordan was nervous; Joey was moving lower, past the place he most wanted him to be, down toward.. 

The first touch of his fingers on Jordan's feet was uncomfortable, but the second and subsequent passes of fingertips across that delicate skin sent Jordan into orbit. It was so good, he couldn't stand it. "Joey, what the fuck? Ohh.." It didn't make any sense, but even that part of him being touched was edging him closer to orgasm. 

Joey hit a spot right under J's big toe, and Jordan felt the pressure run up his leg and thigh and explode in his groin. Bending his leg at the knee, Joey continued to stroke there while moving his mouth into position. 

"I want you to cum, Jordan."

His tongue tricked lazy eights and a slow alphabet over the head of his cock, and Jordan swore his lungs would burst. If this was death, he welcomed it. "Please, Master. Please.. make me cum.."

"Cum, Jordan. Cum in my mouth."

Tongue flicking faster now, a flame lighting the fuse. "Yeah.. fuck.. right there.. don't stop.. don't stop.. unnnghhh! Fuuuuck!" Jordan let go, filling Joey's mouth. The cock ring made it more intense, the rubber pushing back against every pulse of release, making it ricochet. It was almost like he came twice; maybe he did. Perhaps they simply blended into one in his mind.

"Clean it up," Joey said softly, opening his mouth for Jordan to transfer the load into his own body. This is me, he thought; this is what Joey just tasted. Joey just sucked my cock and did God-knows-what to me to get me off. Jordan was in awe. Jordan was half in love.

"I'm going to fix us something to eat. You're not going to try to run, are you?"

Jordan was trying to remember how to breathe. "Not anymore. Not now."

Joey caressed Jordan's hair. "Good boy. We're going to play a lot of new games together, and it'll more fun if you follow the rules."


	8. A Little Bit Twisted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How deep does Joe's dark side run?
> 
> DEEP.

They ate. Jordan was given time to shower, Joey keeping guard of the door; he was helped into clean clothes, and then it was time for bed.

"No exercise? No.. anything?"

Joey smiled. "You need time to rest before we do anything strenuous." Joey was adjusting the ropes, checking the knots.

Jordan felt tired, a combined effect of the withdrawal and the sex games. After a couple of hours without restraints, he was reluctant to submit to their embrace.

"This is for our mutual benefit, Jordan. You're gonna have to trust me on this. Your body is still going haywire, and you may say or do things you wouldn't otherwise do. It's my job to keep you safe."

Jordan frowned. "And what's MY job here?"

"Your job is to heal, and to submit to your Master."

It both thrilled and terrified him.

The lights were dimmed, but not shut off completely, as Joey needed to be able to check on Jordan periodically without waking him. He loved the way Joey held him, like he was precious; it was safe and warm, and yet frustrating, too.

"I want you to fall asleep thinking about what happened." Joey paused. "Not just the sexual stuff. I mean all of it, everything that brought you to that moment of surrender. When did you start looking at me that way?"

Jordan gulped. "I guess when we were still kids. I didn't have a word for it. Even when Jon.. it just didn't fall into place. Then with the reunion, I had to start to face it. I fought it, Joey, I really did."

He wasn't sure when to use 'Joey' and when to use 'Master.' "We're still friends, J. I'm not asking to control your entire life. Call me Joey, except when we play."

Jordan felt a stirring, despite his exhaustion, despite his sore body and the horrors of sweating it out. "Why can't we - I mean, tonight?"

"You can't push it too much. When you're clean, things will be different." That sounded like a threat AND a promise, and Jordan couldn't wait.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

When Jordan awoke, it was barely daylight. He was soaked with sweat, and he groaned with the pain of screaming muscles and a full bladder. Joey stirred beside him.

"Mmmornin.'" Joey rested an arm over Jordan's stomach, and the weight of it put more pressure on his bladder. 

"Fuck, I gotta pee. Don't - don't push right there.."

Joey roused himself, looking at Jordan in a predatory, feral sort of way. "Are you telling me what I can and can't do with your body?"

Jordan tried to laugh, his mouth sticky and sour, throat dry. "Come on, Joey. Be reasonable. I seriously have to - "

Joey moved to a sitting position. "You remember the safe word?"

Jordan scanned his brain, finally finding the word in question. "Yeah."

"Good." With that, Joey pressed the flat of his palm right over the spot, making Jordan howl with the intensity of that pressure.

"Joe, I'm seriously gonna piss myself if you don't - "

Joe massaged the spot, and the sensation was intense. "Don't." It was a warning, and Jordan took it as such.

He let it go on, writhing beneath the younger man's touch. Jordan was breathing harder, holding it in so tightly, but he knew he couldn't last forever. 

Joey's other hand spread J's thighs, his fingers moving down toward his ass. As Joe's fingers brushed against Jordan's hole, he moaned. "Please.. not there.."

Jordan didn't think he could stand that AND the bladder pressure at the same time. His bulging bladder was pushing on his prostate from the inside, and Joe was determined to push it from the outside, too.

"Just trust me." Joe sucked a finger into his mouth before fumbling around in Jordan's clothing, not bothering to remove it. When that slick finger edged its way into the hole, Jordan's entire body went rigid.

"Fuck!"

"Open for me," Joey sighed. Jordan willed his body to be still, and the finger worked in up to the second knuckle. As he found the spot, Jordan lost control, begging for more, begging to stop, never using the one word that would truly end the torture.

"Like that?"

Did he LIKE it? This must be how it feels for a woman when she gets clit stimulation and g-spot stimulation, Jordan thought. Then he couldn't think at all. White-hot pleasure washed over him, making his whole body arch upward. Joe kept up the pressure from the front and the back, and Jordan's brain short-circuited, his climax rocking him and reducing him to a quivering mess of incoherence.

There was no semen release, but Jordan felt something hot splashing against his skin, making his clothing stick to his body. It was...

"Oh my. You've wet yourself, Jordan."

Jordan's heart was ringing in his ears, his body still gasping for air. "I - what?"

"You peed the bed. Everything is soaked."

Jordan wanted to care, but he was so high, and his dick was still hard, not having released its load. When more urine dribbled out with an aftershock, Joey sucked in a disapproving breath.

"Look at the mess you've made. I'm going to have to punish you."

Joe untied the ropes from the bedpost, looping them around J's wrists and leading his soggy slave toward the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, J -- I mean, Master. It was an accident."

Joe busied himself turning on the water, getting it to the right temperature. Jordan wondered how he was supposed to undress with his hands tied, then realized... he wasn't.

"You'll be showering fully clothed. I'm not going to wash your pissy outfit. I suppose I'd better get the sheet, too."

Jordan knew better than to move. The urine was now cooling to room temperature, no longer heated by his body. It was an odd sensation.

Joe returned, tossing the wadded-up sheet into the tub. He helped Jordan over the side of the tub, positioning him under the spray.

"Joey, it's freezing!" It wasn't freezing, but it wasn't warm, either.

"If you please your Master, you'll get a warmer shower."

Strong hands pushed Jordan to his knees, the soaked sheet gathering around his legs as it bobbed in the water. Joe quickly removed his shorts and boxers, leaving Jordan breathless at the sight of that angry, veiny cock pointing accusingly at him.

"I know you've thought about it plenty of times. Show me."

Jordan didn't deny it; how could he? Joe already knew. Perhaps he'd always known. Jordan leaned over the side of the tub, cool water sluicing across his back and down to where his cheeks joined, making him shiver. How he'd wanted to do this! The context was humiliating, but he was going to take his punishment - every drop.

Joe let out the softest of grunts as Jordan's lips closed over the head of his cock. He was in awe of this man, this man who could read him so well, who knew what he wanted or needed without being told. Joe seemed to enjoy licking, so Jordan focused on that for a while - until his Master grew impatient. 

"Enough teasing. Suck it."

Jordan's own dick jerked in response to that command. He wanted to please his Master, and not just so he'd get a warmer shower; he wanted to please him as a sign of his love and devotion.

Love?

It was true; he knew it in that moment. He could take anything from the man and still come back for more. This was what he'd wanted and needed, what he'd searched for his whole life. This was coming home.

Joe's hands gripped the sides of Jordan's head, hips pushing forward into that sweet mouth, and Jordan took it, welcomed it. Joe's finger and thumb pinched Jordan's nose closed for a moment, and Jordan kept sucking, unwilling to break his Master's hold on him. He was sucking harder, desperate for air, but putting his Master's wants over his own needs. When Joe let go, Jordan breathed in, and his Master smiled.

"Good boy. You trust me, don't you? I will cause you pain, but I will never truly harm you, Jordan."

He knew it was true, and it was the most twisted, romantic thing anyone had ever said to him. The euphoria of the air game made Jordan feel like he was floating, and he barely noticed the cold.

As Joey got close, he issued an order. "When I cum, don't stop sucking. Keep going until I tell you to stop. Understood?"

Jordan mumbled "Yes, Master," around the swollen mouthful, and Joe nodded, caressing his hair. Jordan wanted him to cum, wanted to taste it, to take it into himself. He knew how many women (and men) would've killed to be in his place, and it spurred him on. Joey had chosen HIM, and he felt like the luckiest cock-sucker in the world.

"Good boy.. Good boy.. Just like that.."

The grip on him tightened, Joe pulling on fistfuls of Jordan's hair. The pain shot through him, hitting his cock and balls, making him moan against his Master's skin.

"Suck it, Jordan. Yeah. Take that cock in your filthy mouth.."

Jordan wished he could stroke himself, but his hands were tied. He wished he could cradle his Master's balls, massage them, tug them, but all he could do was lean against the side of the tub for balance, its smooth hardness so far from what he needed.

"Fuck.. Such a dirty boy. You like sucking cock, don't you? Mmm.."

Jordan had tears in his eyes, unable to articulate why. He wanted Joe to fill him, to shoot down his throat until he gagged. As if reading his mind, Joe came with a shout, hands anchoring Jordan's head to his groin as he pulsed into him several times. Jordan felt a few tears slip free, felt the life force of his Master spraying into him, transforming him. This was his calling; this was where he belonged.

As Joey stilled, Jordan did not move away. Joey's cock began to soften in his mouth, but there was a sense of something more coming. He had been told to keep sucking, and he did so, Joe muttering a soft 'Fuck' here and there.

After a minute, Jordan felt warmth filling his mouth once more. Though he was shocked by how different it felt, he didn't release his grip. Joe peed into his mouth, pulling back about midstream so he could spray Jordan across the face and torso. Jordan gasped, surprised and deeply ashamed by how much it turned him on.

It was a long piss; he must have been holding it for some time. Joey's sounds of release were almost as hot as when he came, and Jordan felt like he was on fire everywhere that the spray landed. As Joe finished, he smiled, patting Jordan on the head. "Good boy. You've done well." 

Joe adjusted the water temp, and Jordan sighed as the hot water washed over him. 

"Is it good?," Joe wanted to know.

"Yes, Master. So good." Not as good as having you cum in my mouth, or pee all over me, he wanted to add, but he was too overcome with various emotions.

Joe finished undressing before stepping into the tub. Jordan's mouth was instantly ready to take him again if that was what was required, but Joe shook his head. "I want you to touch yourself."

Jordan looked down at his bound wrists. "I.. How?"

"You'll just have to get creative, won't you?" Joe tilted his head back, letting Jordan catch some of the shower water in his mouth - he hadn't realized how thirsty he was, being distracted by other things - before closing his mouth with a gently push.

"Stroke yourself. I want to watch."


	9. More Than One Way to Expel Toxins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey continues Jordan's crash-course in BDSM

"I'll try."

Jordan rubbed his hands over the bulge in his clothes; the friction was pleasurable, but he didn't see how it could ever satisfy. Still, he was under orders, and if it pleased his Master, perhaps he'd be rewarded.

Joey washed Jordan's hair as he worked, and that alone was enough to make Jordan whimper in pleasure. Even through the pain and humiliation, there was a sense of being cared for, and at that moment, Jordan chose not to question it. It was a gift, and he took it as such.

Jordan tried to fit his clothes-covered hard-on into the gap between his palms, and it worked - but only to a point. He couldn't get the grip he needed, and the wet fabric was starting to chafe him.

Joey took pity on him.

"Stand up, Jordan." He led him up, Jordan's legs stretching after kneeling for so long. Joe eased J's clothes down to the bottom of the tub, helping him balance as he stepped out of them. "Now - try again."

This was better, but still not enough. Jordan was frustrated with his own body, its inability to comply with his Master's wishes. Joe watched with fascination as his slave rubbed and squeezed, pushed and pulled, trying to cum.

Joe slid to his knees. "Are you mine, Jordan?"

"Yes, Master."

"All mine?"

Jordan hesitated for only a moment. "All yours, Master."

"Good." Joe's mouth closed over Jordan, forcing J to lean back against the wall of the shower for support. When the finger, still slick with conditioner, wriggled its way into his hole, Jordan felt faint.

"So good.. fuck.."

Joe's mouth was hot, drawing on him with fervor, that talented tongue painting him with pleasure. The finger pressed against that magic spot, making Jordan weak at the knees. "Yeah.. oh, fuck.."

Joe sucked and teased until Jordan felt ready to die, his balls pulled tight against his body, needing to empty. "I'm close.. Master.. please.."

"Not yet. Don't cum til I give permission."

Jordan groaned. He couldn't stop the x-rated video loop running through his mind: Joe fingering his ass as he peed himself; Joe's cock in his mouth; Joe peeing on him.. "'M close. Can't.. fuck.."

"Not yet." The tone was sharper this time.

Jordan held his breath, bit his lip, ran old algebra equations through his brain to try to stave off his impending release - but then he saw Joe as the teacher, bending him over the desk, beating his ass with a ruler - 

"Master.. please.."

Joey mouthed his balls, his hand stroking Jordan slowly, loosely, enough to keep him hard, but not enough to finish him. This went on for several minutes, Joey taking an occasional lick of J's tip, then turning down the intensity to keep him hovering on the edge.

"You're mine. I say when you pee. I say when you have a bowel movement, or when you eat, or when you sleep.. I say when you cum."

Jordan had never been this hard, this needy, in all his life. "Yes.. Master."

Joe's hand began to jerk him, tight and fast. "Cum, Jordan," he said, and then he was silent, his mouth full, busily polishing the head of that beautiful cock.

"Fuck yeah.. Master.. fuck.. ohh.. fuuuuuuuuck!"

Jordan slid partway down the wall, Joe's capable hands cupping his ass cheeks to keep him from busting his tailbone. The water had turned cold again, but neither of them had noticed.

Joe kissed his slave, letting him taste himself. "Let's get you cleaned up. You're probably hungry and thirsty by now."

Jordan wasn't sure; at that moment, he couldn't feel anything but love and awe.


	10. Advanced Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey pushes J to his limits - for their mutual benefit, of course ;)

Jordan had another bad case of the shakes. Dawn found him in a sweat; he'd been having the strangest dreams.. When he woke, he found his dreams weren't far from his reality.

"Joey?"

The blindfold squeezed his throbbing head. "I'm here, Jordan."

Jordan relaxed against his pillow. With his vision obscured and his wrists bound, he felt vulnerable, his body now hyper-alert. Joey was caressing him, and he felt like a pet, like he was .. owned. He had slept naked from the waist down, meaning his arousal was evident. 

"It's gonna get more intense today," Joey stated. "Remember the safe word."

Jordan shivered. 

From the moment he woke up, he did everything blindfolded. Joey had to help him with every step of the way: getting to the bathroom, eating breakfast, drinking water, finding his way back to the bed.. He was still shaky, partly from the detox, and partly from fear and anticipation. 

"On your back. Don't move." J obeyed, and Joey cut up the front of his shirt with a pair of scissors, opening it like a vest.

"On your front, Jordan." As J rolled over, Joey sliced the shirt up the back, then pulled the cut shirt from his shoulders and away from his body. 

Joey paused. 

"If I leave your hands unbound, will you behave? I want to see if you'll submit without being restrained."

Jordan promised to try. He heard the sounds of Joey rummaging through the under-bed drawer for something, heard the various implements being set down upon the nightstand within easy reach. The not knowing was heightening his arousal, his cock pressing into the mattress.

Jordan hadn't even realized he was clenching his ass-cheeks together. "Relax," Joey said, stroking him there. Jordan complied. 

A minute passed, no sound but the two of them breathing. Then there was a slight whistling sound, followed by a sting across J's ass. His body stiffened, ass flinching from the source of contact, but the pain soon gave way to pleasure, the vibration moving from back to front. His cock twitched.

"The crop," Joey said by way of explanation. Jordan felt heat creeping into his cheeks - all of them. Another whistle, another blow, and then the pain melting into pleasure, making him exhale in a rush. He willed himself to stay still, trying not to brace or clench. Joey picked up the pace, leaving less time between strikes, and Jordan was groaning, determined to take it all. When the cropping ended, Joey soothed his ass with his palm, and Jordan's body went limp against the bed.

Joey's breathing was strained, and the knowledge that he was turned on by Jordan's pain made Jordan harder. Joey needed him, just as he needed Joey. Was that what made it so erotic? Was that why he was able to take the pain?

"Do you like the pain?"

"Yes, Master."

Jordan heard the strike of a match, could smell the burning of the wood. Searing heat dribbled onto his back, from one shoulder-blade to the other, and he let out a hiss. As soon as the wax cooled, the pain became tolerable, and Jordan ached for more. Joey seemed to be working in a deliberate pattern, and Jordan had a sudden desire to see the marks, to see what Joey's hand and the hot wax were creating.

When Joe was satisfied with his handiwork, he blew out the candle.

"Are you a bad boy, Jordan?"

"Yes, Master."

"Do bad boys like toys in their ass?"

Jordan groaned, forgetting his manners for a moment. "Yes, Master."

Joey held the toy over Jordan's back, letting the cold lube dribble down onto the stinging skin. It was the smallest butt-plug in the set; he needed to break Jordan in gradually.

"Spread your legs." Jordan did so, and he felt the rounded tip pressing against his hole. Joe worked it in little by little, the flared base keeping it from being sucked into him completely. Jordan wriggled against it, then moaned; it was good, but it didn't quite get the angle he needed..

"Bad boy," said Joe, smacking him on the ass. "Stay still."

Jordan stopped moving.

He left him like that for what felt like an age before finally turning him over. 

"Stroke it. Slowly, Jordan."

Jordan gripped himself, his sore back and ass now pressed against the bed. He felt Joey straddle his thighs, but could not see him. When Joe began to tap on the base of the plug, Jordan knew he was probably sitting facing his feet, making it easier for him to manipulate the toy.

Each tap increased the pressure back there, making Jordan crazy. He wanted Joey's cock inside him, anywhere: his mouth, his ass, his hands.. 

"Tell me what you're thinking about."

"Master.. please.."

Joey pulled the plug halfway out, then shoved it back in, hard. Jordan called his name.

"Tell me."

"I'm thinking of.. you, Master. Of you.. inside me.. there.."

Joe removed the plug, and Jordan gasped at the emptiness it left behind.

"Are you ready for the next level?"

Jordan gave his assurances, and Joe prepped the next size plug. This one had ridges to it, and Jordan felt the exquisite friction as it went in. 

"Fuck! Yeah.."

"Slow down," Joe warned. Jordan willed himself to obey, loosening his grip, trying to stall his orgasm.

Joe moved the plug inside of him, pushing it this way and that, turning it in a circle, grinding it like a pestle. Jordan was the mortar, Joe breaking him down, crushing him to powder.

"So good.. fuck.."

Joe decided after a few minutes that it was time for the next plug. This one vibrated.

Jordan felt himself being stretched, still wishing it was Joe's cock. When the vibrations started, he stopped stroking, in shock.

"Don't stop," came the command. Jordan had to stroke very, very slowly if he was going to keep from exploding.

"Please, Master.." 

Jordan was pitiful, and Joe was getting off on it. "One more plug, and if you can take that, you'll get your reward."

Joey caressed his balls, feeling how heavy they were, how ready to be emptied. The plug was removed, leaving Jordan gasping, his ass seeking that pressure and being denied.

The final plug was long and wide, with rotating beads along the shaft. When Jordan felt those little bits of magic begin to move, his cock leaked a little pre-cum. 

Joey was proud of his sub for taking it, for resisting the urge to beg, and for holding off on his climax. Jordan's cock was turning purple, two shades past angry red, and Joey knew what he needed.

He increased the speed of the toy, and Jordan's entire body was shaking with the strain of denial. Joe withdrew the toy, and Jordan was panting, desperate. 

"You've done well. I'm going to give you what you want, what you need. Are you ready for your Master's cock?"

"Yes, Master. Yes.."

Joe poured lube over his monstrous cock, swiping the excess against the hole. "You can take it. Deep breath, then let it out."

Jordan was whimpering, needing to be filled. The sensation of skin on skin was so different to the smooth silicone and glass of the toys, and Joe was so hot to the touch.. "Open. Take it. Take me."

When Joe was in, he stilled, letting Jordan feel it. "Stroke. Don't cum til I tell you to."

Jordan, half out of his mind with need, began to move his hand. When Joey started to thrust, he had to switch to half-strokes, avoiding the head; he was so close..

"When we're done, I'll show you what I put on your back. I'll let you see your slutty self in the mirror, see all that I've done to you.."

Jordan shook the bed. It was beyond his control; his body was reaching its limit.

Joe alternated short, sharp thrusts with an occasional long and deep stroke, keeping Jordan off-balance. 

"I'm going to cum in your ass. I'm gonna fill that boy-pussy with my cum. Is that what you want?"

"Yes, Master."

"Keep stroking. Harder. Faster."

Joey went harder, too, filling him up, making him crazy. Joey pulled off the blindfold.

"Cum, Jordan. Make that cock cum for me." Jordan saw Joe's face, watched him cum, and he followed, his ass taking the pounding, his hand jerking as fast as he could. He saw his spray cover Joe's chest, dripping back down onto him, felt Joe filling his crack with cream.. 

"God, fuck, yeah! Don't stop! Don't.." 

"Jordan.. fuck.."

Joe crushed him with a kiss, smearing the mess over both of them. The afterglow was shattered by the feeling of Joe pulling out, making J wince.

"Come here," Joe panted, pulling Jordan onto unsteady legs.

He led J to the mirror, turning him around. 

Looking over his shoulder, blinking in the light, Jordan saw what Joe had put on his back.

Angry red wax letters spelled the word 'MINE.'


	11. Break Me Down, Build Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan will be a new man, built from the ground up - but first the debris of his former life must be cleared away..

How many days had it been? Jordan was subjected to exercises, somewhere between personal trainer sessions and hell week for new military recruits. Joey got inside his mind: there were periods of isolation, sensory deprivation and silence, Jordan unsure whether he was truly alone or if Joey was simply ignoring him; alternating hot and cold showers; being spoon-fed while blindfolded, never certain what taste would greet his lips; being forced to hold a particular position for what felt like hours - all with no way to tell how much time had passed. Jordan knew without a doubt that one utterance of the safe-word would bring immediate concern from Joey and relief from his torture, but it became a point of pride for him to see how much he could endure in the name of love.

Yes. He also knew without a doubt that he loved Joey, had loved him for years - maybe forever. It ran through every fiber and sinew of him even as his body was stretched to its limits, beat in every cell whooshing around his body in endless circuits with every pump of his heart. Joey was imprinted upon his soul, and his submission proved the depth of his devotion. The lower he sank, the higher he felt.

In letting go of all control, Jordan was finding himself again. 

The screams of withdrawal became dull whimpers within the voluntary pain of their games. 

"You're doing so well, baby," Joey crooned in his ear from behind. Jordan's arms were suspended over his head, wrists bound by the cuff on the taut chain which reached to the ceiling. Jordan had never sweated so much in his life, Joey holding the water bottle to his lips once more, Jordan swallowing without Joey having to ask him to. He could feel his muscles refining in the fire; he knew he was melting away the water-weight and the fat, the outward signs of his fall. His face was breaking out, as well as his back, but that was a good sign - his body was purging itself of years' worth of bad habits, pushing it out through his pores. Joey cleaned him with care, scrubbed and wiped, pampered and soothed. Every bruise or mark was a badge of honor to Jordan, and not being able to see them was killing him.

"Is there anything you want, my love - anything you need?"

Jordan's mind was a blank canvas, ready to be painted by his Master's whims. "Only You, Master."

Joey caressed him with the crop, its tip sliding unhindered between the cheeks of Jordan's ass. He did not tense, merely shivered at the welcome intrusion. How long had his Master denied him sex in all its forms? The pain was sweet, but his body betrayed him, begging shamelessly without words.

"Are you quite sure? There's nothing you desire, nothing you've thought about in the darkness of your mind?" Joe's breath was hot against Jordan's groin, puffs of air drifting across the inflamed skin, so close to where he needed to be..

"Master, I want whatever you choose to give me."

"Those are dangerous words. Do you really mean them?"

That stung. Didn't Joey know how much Jordan loved him, how willing he was to try anything for him?

"I do. Master; I.. I love you."

Joey smiled, though Jordan couldn't see. "I'm glad to hear it." He hadn't said it back, but Jordan held out hope that it would come in time. It was there, spelled out upon his skin in the blows, the teasing caresses, the after-care..

Jordan heard a door open, and footsteps moving toward him. The clicks were like heels on bare floor. Another set of steps, softer; then another.. How many entered the room? Was Joey going to have people watch them? What was - 

"Tell me about the worst thing you ever lived through, Jordan."

His hard-on dwindled away to almost nothing at those words. His deepest, darkest secrets were more painful than anything Joey could dream up. 

"Jordan?" A corrective tap on his ass failed to produce a response.

"Master, please.. I.. please."

"Are you denying me already? After all I've done for you?"

Jordan's head was in that space halfway between fog and clarity, and he wanted to move forward, but he was afraid - especially with other people present.

Joey sighed. "Very well, my pet. Another time. Since you balked at that test, I'll have to offer an alternative." He sounded sad, though Jordan knew better.

He waved a hand in front of Jordan's face, getting no reaction. Making a fist and driving it toward him at full speed brought no response, no flinch, and the audience knew for certain that Jordan was truly blind.

Jordan was embarrassed that other people could see him naked and at Joey's mercy, but he was more ashamed of having been unable to comply so soon after pledging his obedience. What was Joe going to demand of him in exchange?

"Jordan, remember.." The safe-word.

Jordan promised.

"You. Come here." The clicking heels moved closer at Joe's bidding. Jordan felt a gloved hand run down his torso, inspecting him, exploring him. The fingers dug at his pits, making him struggle against the chain, taking his breath. They gentled, caressing again, roaming, staking a claim. He knew Joey was watching, maintaining control. The hands felt feminine, tapered fingers and sweetness, but he couldn't be sure.

"You like that." Joe stated it as fact, Jordan's body unable to hide or refute it. The silky hands slid along his back, tracing every sore muscle, every broken blister of skin, then further south, teasing his crack. Jordan's ass popped out without thought. 

"Slut," Joe hissed. 

The hands moved around to the front, stroking Jordan's need. Should he protest? Should he beg for more? What did Joey want?

"If you want it, take it." Joe gave him permission, and Jordan put himself into the hands of a stranger.

Soon a second pair of hands was caressing his body, then a third. After the fourth, he became disoriented; how many were there? Some were gloved in satin, some in leather, some bare-skinned.. They seemed to cover him, swallowing him inch by inch. Joe was chuckling darkly, taking it all in.

The hands were overloading his senses with too many things at once: pinching, pulling, stroking, tickling, poking, teasing.. Then Joe was there, telling them to move back. Everything stopped at his command.

"Choose one. Pick a number, Jordan. One to five."

He hesitated. "Four."

Joey clapped once, and someone Jordan couldn't see went onto their knees and began to suck. No warm-up, no teasing - just sucked him straight down like it was nothing. Jordan felt his cock spasming against the tightness of that anonymous throat. "Fuck.."

"Pick another number," Joe said, and Jordan called out "One."

Another stranger knelt behind him, working his cheeks apart with gloved hands, their hot tongue finding his hole. No one had ever licked him there before, tasted him there, and this person was devouring him. He could smell the musk of his own ass, and his face burned.

"Another." Jordan chose; "Three."

Someone placed a finger into his mouth, the sating tasting faintly of perfume. More fingers joined, his mouth mirroring what was being done to him: licking and sucking. 

"Another, Jordan."

"Two."

He felt someone wedging themselves between his legs, trying to get to his balls without disturbing the people eating his ass or sucking his cock. The scrape of stubble against his thigh was a shock to his senses; was it a man? How many men? How many women?

He hadn't chosen number five. Was that wrong? He had nothing to go on but instinct.

Jordan also didn't know if he was allowed to cum. Would he be punished? Would the other people be punished for making it happen?

"Master.." He was weak, needy, ready to explode. 

"Not yet." Another clap, and the hands and mouths withdrew.

"Number five, go to him." 

Jordan felt a warm body backing up against him. A hand slicked him with lube, and then he was wet from something else - a woman. She slid him in without a word, his body shocked by her tight heat. "Fuck.." The angle was less than ideal, and he couldn't use his hands, couldn't grip her hips or control the depth or the speed. She bounced against him, the crudest of acts, milking him with her sheath until he saw stars.

"Not yet," Joe warned. Jordan gritted his teeth, out of his mind with the urge to spill his seed. He could hear her breathing, her slight moans and whimpers as she used him, impaling herself on him again and again. Her toy. The salacious sound of her ass slapping against him filled the room, a perverse parody of applause. Other hands gripped him from behind, holding him steady, pressing into his ass. She gained friction, panting, climbing towards release - 

"Enough." With a whine, she unsheathed him. Joe caressed Jordan's cheek. "They're going to take turns with you, my pet, all night. You'll be a good boy and service them, won't you?"

He promised he would.

"Your mouth, your cock and your ass are mine. I decide who gets to use them."

He affirmed that it was so.

"I decide if and when you cum."

He knew it with all his being. He wouldn't have it any other way.


	12. Taking Them Down With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan's degradation drags others down with him - albeit willingly..
> 
> ..leading to some deep confessions from both lovers.
> 
> Implied disclosures of being abused as minors, without going into explicit details. 
> 
> ALL forms of abuse are abhorrent, espec when they involve children. I do not condone any act of abuse; it's simply here as part of the story. If references to abuse trigger you, please do not read this. Thanks.

How many holes? Jordan's body was treated to a steady stream of lips and tongues, talented hands, and wet, slippery openings both male and female. He couldn't believe he hadn't gone into cardiac arrest. He came to know them by their scent, or by the cadence of their breathing; nothing else about them was accessible to him. Joe was the ringmaster, the lion tamer, the leader, deciding what went where and who came when. It had not yet been Jordan's turn.

"Are you ready to tell me about the worst thing you've ever lived through?" Joe's voice was gentle, but Jordan knew how cold and cruel it could become. He knew he needed to open up the old wounds in order to clean them; it was the only way to heal.. but there were things about his past he'd never told anyone. He had grown to trust Joe, literally, with his life, his safety, but could he truly do this?

Joe switched tactics. The blindfold slid free, though Jordan waited, not opening his eyes until he had permission.

"Open your eyes. Very good." Three men and two women, all strangers to him, were staring at the floor. All were naked except for their shoes and, in some cases, gloves. Joe, too, was naked, just as Jordan had hoped.

"Watch." Joe beckoned to one of the women. She dropped to her knees, Joe's hand grabbing a fistful of her hair and tugging hard as she pressed the flat of her tongue against the head of his cock. Joe didn't look at her, instead keeping his eyes locked on Jordan's. A pang of jealousy flared in his gut, but Jordan made no sound, no movement. She was good, as evidenced by his tightened jaw, his glazed expression, but he did not let her finish.

Dismissing her, he summoned another. Jordan watched as Joe knelt, parted her thighs, and began to lick her. She struggled to keep her balance, and Jordan felt the blood rushing through him, the adrenaline, the mounting rage. Joe stole glances at Jordan, his nose buried in the stranger's cunt, tongue wedged inside of her. 

Soon, she, too, was cast aside. One of the men was permitted to kiss Joe anywhere but on the lips, and he began a slow and thorough descent, starting at the ears, on to the neck, then the shoulders, chest and stomach, heading to where Jordan wanted and needed to go. Joe granted him a few passes of his mouth, then shoved him to the floor.

"Are you ready to tell me?"

Jordan couldn't, choking on the words, the emotions he'd suppressed for so long. Joe brought the other man to the halfway point between himself and Jordan, positioning him on all fours. Was he going to - ?

At his signal, a woman handed Joey a bottle of lube, which he generously applied. Jordan watched through a haze of crimson as Joe began to enter the man. "Master.."

Joe opened his eyes, meeting Jordan's gaze, his body stilled. "Tell me."

Jordan couldn't. Not yet. He was suddenly very tired, wanting to sleep. The next thing he felt was the floor rising up to meet him, and everything went black.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

When he awoke, only one wrist was tied to the bed, presumably to keep him from rolling out of it and onto the floor. Joe was there, but the strangers were gone.

"You're awake," said Joe. Had it been a nightmare? 

"How could you.. Did you really do that? In front of me?"

They weren't playing now. Jordan needed answers.

"I need to push boundaries; it's part of who I am. I won't deny you the right to push your own boundaries, Jordan. I also hoped that you seeing me like that would make you open up."

"You did it to make me jealous?"

He sighed. "It's more complex than that."

"I'm not saying it didn't feel good," Jordan went on, his words coming slowly. "Just.. Those people didn't mean anything to me." His throat felt tight with some strange emotion.

"They didn't mean anything to me, either. Sometimes it's about having a sense of control. I don't like feeling out of control, J."

Jordan could relate. "Joey.. Did you ever.. I mean, when we were growing up, it was too much, too fast, from all directions at once. Did anything happen that you.. Do you have any regrets?"

Joe thought he was beginning to understand what lay at the very roots of J's problems. He needed to pick very carefully to get at the buried bomb of truth without triggering an explosion. 

Untying his friend's wrist, he helped Jordan sit up. Joe leaned against the head of the bed, pulling Jordan to him, resting him on his chest. As he began to stroke J's hair, he spoke soothingly to him.

"You can tell me anything. This is a safe space, where no one can hurt you. I promise never to repeat anything you tell me without getting your permission first."

This was the thing he'd been dreading his entire adult life, the shame he'd tried to flush out with alcohol or stuff down with food or sweat out with hard work or block out with sex and drugs. This was the shame he had begun to release little by little through physical pain.

Joe's voice was putting J into a light trance. He felt impossibly heavy, but did not sleep. Soon he began to talk, words spilling out without thought, Joe making sense of them as he just listened, listened, absorbed. Jordan felt empty, lighter, when the words stopped flowing.

"Jordan. Listen to me."

Pause.

"None of it is your fault. It never was. You were too young to choose. You were too young to understand, even if they'd asked you to choose. You were innocent then, and you are innocent now. Nobody deserves to go through what you went through."

Jordan was crying. The tears came, and he let them fall, one after the other. Just breathing.

"Nobody will ever hurt you that way again. Those people can't control you now; they're gone, Jordan. You're safe."

He held J tighter.

"You're safe."

"Safe," Jordan sighed, letting it sink in. "I'm safe here." He hadn't been able to confide in any other lover, and he wondered about that. 

Joe kept repeating comforting words and phrases, petting J the whole time. 

"How do I get them out of my head, Joe? Am I sick? I mean, you tell me I'm bad, and you cause me pain, and I eat it up. Is it part of who I am, or is it all from what - from what they did?" He wouldn't say 'happened,' wouldn't give them that. Accidents just 'happened,' and what they'd done to him was no accident. 

"You acknowledge it. Shame is like mold; it shrivels up and dies in the light and the heat of truth."

Jordan stiffened. "You mean, telling the cops? It's been too long, and I have no proof - "

"Shhh. No. You don't have to tell other people. You just have to acknowledge it to yourself. It may have to be done over and over, J - but every time you own your past, you set yourself free from it. You are not a victim; you, my friend, are a survivor."

"But it makes me ashamed every time I.. every time I want to do any of the things they made me do." His voice was so quiet, Joe had to strain to hear him.

"I know, baby. I know. Just remember: nothing in life is good or bad; it's about context. Money can be used to buy food or to order a hit on someone. Electricity can heat a home or execute a prisoner. A knife can slice bread or stab someone. They're just things, J. We assign meaning to them based on how they're used. Whatever they did, can't be undone, but you can reclaim those acts for yourself. You can give them new meaning."

Jordan had grown up being embarrassed every time he got hard or got off, no matter the context. He'd blamed himself for being too trusting or too pretty or too shy or too whatever to protect himself.

"I'm not belittling your pain. Just know that you weren't the only one."

Jordan lifted his head, turning to face Joe for the first time since they'd started talking.


	13. Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bond between Jordan and Joe deepens with the revelation of painful truths

"I was the baby of the group. I was so young, but thought I knew it all, thought I could handle the big bad adult world of showbiz. There were people who took advantage, in every sense."

Jordan couldn't blink. His mouth had gone dry, and he needed to pee, but he couldn't tear himself away.

"I can't speak for the others, but I think.. I think it happened to them, too. Not always the same people or to the same degree, but, we were all vulnerable. Do you understand what I'm saying, J?"

The others? 

"I've wondered if part of your brother's issue about who he is was based on.. stuff like that."

Jordan felt winded. Deflated.

"Joey.. God.. I'm so sorry that you went through that. I.. I didn't know. We wouldn't have - "

"I know you wouldn't have. Whatever you guys thought of me, I know you would've stepped in if you'd known."

"So all of us, maybe.. and nobody told the others. Nobody told ANYONE!" Jordan was getting angry, and it scared him. He spent his life trying to be pleasant, or even sad, but never angry.

"It's okay. Anger doesn't make you a bad person. It doesn't mean you'll get violent. Just let it out."

He wanted to, but..

"I'm not a victim, J. I've learned to play with the notions of control, of pain, of sex in general. They're not the boss of me."

"Is that why you got into.. this?"

Joey considered that. "I'll never know how much of my sexuality is hard-wired, and how much was programmed into me by other people. It doesn't matter to me."

J was shocked. "It doesn't matter?"

Joe smiled. "No. Every time I let myself feel good, I'm taking back what they stole from me."

That was a lot to take in. Jordan was still angry. 

"I think you need to let it out."

"How?"

Joey eased out from under Jordan. "You can take it out on me." J held his breath as Joe rummaged in the drawer for the crop before handing it to him.

"It's okay. Try it out. See how it feels."

Jordan didn't want to hit anyone, especially when he felt angry. "I can't do it. I can't hurt you; not like this."

Joe was in position on the floor, kneeling, his back to Jordan. "It's okay."

Jordan let the crop fall to the floor. "Not like this."

Joe smiled. "You see? You can be in control, J. You're better than them."

Jordan looked at his life, at all of his mistakes and failings. Then he looked at the things he'd gotten right, and realized that it wasn't a case of putting stuff into columns of 'good' or 'bad.' He was alive, and he could make choices, minute by minute; he could build his future, starting now.

"What matters is what you do next, Jordan."

There would be no more torture or training that day - just healing conversation and basic care. They had exposed the truth, and Jordan was ready to move forward into this strange new path without secrets or shame. He wanted what Joe had: the freedom to give and receive pleasure without guilt, without apology. Joey was more than willing to help him get there.


	14. Deeper Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding a way forward means things will get harder before they get easier..

Joe wasn't clinically trained, but he knew what had helped him. It was time to start paying it forward by using his experience to help Jordan.

Morning brought a chance to start again, to choose moment by moment what shape their lives would take. 

"Jordan.." The older man stirred, wondering how much of the previous day had been a dream.

"I really told you all that stuff, didn't I." Jordan was vulnerable, wanting to take it back, to retreat into himself, but he knew Joe wouldn't let him.

"This is your first step into the darkness. Just one step. You can't see further ahead than that, and it's okay. I'll walk in front of you." 

Jordan nodded.

Breakfast was quiet. Joey was thinking, and Jordan was nervous about asking him to share. He figured his lover would fill him in if he waited, and he was proven correct.

"Jordan, are you ready to try again?" He knew Joe was referring to the group play. "This time can be different; you can tell me what you want to do, and we can negotiate the scene on your terms. You can act out whatever you feel, whatever you weren't allowed to feel, whatever you want."

He was stunned. It hadn't occurred to him to use people in that way. "I don't think it's right to.. especially after what I went through."

Joe smiled. "It's all voluntary. Nobody is really forced. Have I forced you to do anything, Jordan?"

Jordan had to admit that he had consented. He had a safe-word, and he could use it at any time. If everyone involved was operating under the same rules, he wouldn't *really* be hurting anyone.. right? 

He had time to think about it during the shower and all through the morning exercises. What did he have to lose?

"I'll try."

Joe looked at him intently, searching his face. "Are you sure?"

Something about it made Jordan feel.. powerful. "I'm sure. It makes sense, in a way: I can act out what happened before, but change the ending. I can change the feelings it gave me."

Joe excused himself to make a phone-call, leaving Jordan alone with his thoughts.

It was strange to sit, walk and move around freely, without Joe watching him or setting limits. If he was honest, it was almost overwhelming - too much freedom of choice after being under Joe's loving control for so long. When his lover returned, he was relieved.

"Miss me?" 

Jordan smiled, affirming. 

"They'll be here soon, J. Remember: They can stop the scene at any time, just like you can. You won't hurt them, as long as you respect the safe-word."

His nerves went into over-drive; this was new territory for him. He'd always had issues with being sexually aggressive, equating it with abuse - even when his lover had begged for it. Even dirty talk felt 'wrong' to him. Jordan knew this session was going to open a lot of old wounds, and he only hoped that, by the time it was over, he'd feel better.


	15. Acting Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The following chapters contains language and actions of abuse role-play, which may trigger strong reactions in readers who've been assaulted or abused. If you're concerned it may upset you, please don't read them.
> 
> These characters/interactions are fictional, but within the story, they are all consenting adult participants. I am NOT okay with anyone forcing/abusing/degrading anyone else in real life. As a survivor of various types of abuse, I find the notion of re-enacting trauma on one's own terms to be empowering and healing - sort of like getting back on a horse after being thrown off and injured, to show yourself that it can end differently. As a rule, I support anything which helps survivors heal without doing further harm to themselves or anyone else. If that involves controlled pain and role play, so be it.

Jordan wanted to be blindfolded at the outset. He'd decided that being a victim to start with, then gradually gaining control, would help him heal.

Joe met with the others outside, telling them what Jordan wanted and needed. Only one of the women backed out, saying she wouldn't be comfortable with it; that left two women and two men, not counting Joey.

Jordan's ropes were loose enough for him to escape when he was ready.

By now, Jordan had told Joey some of the details he wanted worked into the scenario. It wasn't a case of having to give a blow-by-blow account of what he'd been through; the words and actions of the other participants could be based on what *did* occur, or be based on what Jordan *wanted* - and only he would know the truth. Keeping that element of control meant a lot to Jordan, and Joey - along with this small group of strangers - was willing to give him that. Jordan was very grateful.

He needed one more last-minute talk with Joey before letting himself get into that headspace. "Are you sure this isn't sick and twisted? I mean, am I going to make any of them relive something awful that happened to them?"

Joey gave him reassurance. "They're all here by choice. You know, one of them left; that shows the others could've left, too."

Jordan didn't know what day it was. How long had he been here, locked away from the world with Joe? Was he detoxed yet? Was the high he was feeling from being clean, from what he was about to do, or what? 

"I'm ready. As ready as I'll ever be."

Joe kissed him, claiming his mouth in a way that said 'I am allowing you to play with others, but, deep down, we both know you belong to ME.' The blindfold was secured, and Joe loosely bound Jordan's wrists behind his back as he knelt, just as Jordan had requested.

The door opened, and people entered the room. He heard it being locked behind them, and there was a finality to that sound. It dawned on him then, the irony that, in his captivity, he was finding his freedom. In his isolation from others, he was figuring out how to live again. Joe had given him those gifts, too.

This was to be the beginning of Jordan exorcising the demons of his past abuse.


	16. Light Destroys Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Re-writing his trauma story

Jordan knew how many of them were in the room; he trusted Joey, and he'd been told there were two women and two other men. He felt his heart thumping, his body trembling with the memories - some fragmented, others, whole - burned into his cells. The body remembers, even when the brain does not. Some incidents had occurred when he was drunk or drugged; others happened when he was too young and naïve to understand or put into words what he was experiencing. Now he was sober, or almost, and he was choosing to do this, to face the root of his addictions, his secrecy and shame. If he could get through it without using the safe word, he believed he could heal.

The others were around him, looking at him, whispering among themselves. One gripped his hair, snapping his head back hard before shoving him away. Jordan felt the room tilt as his body crumpled toward the floor, hands bound and unable to correct his balance. "What do you think, guys? Is he a virgin? I mean, who'd want to fuck HIM?" One of the men was criticizing him, exposing Jordan's deep-seated insecurity about not being attractive. His braces; his weight; his height; he had loathed them all at one point or another. 

"Hmm. I bet he's a slut. Aren't you, Jordan? I bet you put out for anyone who takes an interest in you," one of the women cooed.

Jordan felt the floor undulating beneath him like a wave, but he knew that was impossible. Wasn't it? 

"Nothing to say for yourself?"

"Are you a bad boy, Jordan? Are you a slut?"

"Or are you a good little virgin?"

"Either way, I bet you play with yourself all the time."

The taunts pelted him like hail, relentless, until he was shaking. Half of their words could've come from his own tortured mind, his teenage diaries, his worst nightmares. It was hard to discern what was from within and what was from without.

Like so many other times in Jordan's life, he was hard; it wasn't in his control. 

"Mmm, look at all that. Is that for me, sweetie?" One of the women got on floor-level, laying a hand on his stomach and stroking downward as Jordan quivered. 

"Don't hog it all. I want a piece, too."

The others murmured assent. Jordan had yet to hear Joey's voice, and he wondered about it.

The hands were claiming him now, along with the words: 'bad,' 'slut,' 'dirty,' repulsing him and arousing him at the same time. Someone commanded him to be still while they cut away his clothing, but he panicked, kicking and trying to scoot out of their grasp. Scissors abandoned, the group tore at his clothes, fingernails grazing him in the process and making him yelp. Jordan found he was now down to his underwear, the shock of new air hitting his skin making him shake even more. 

"You want to be rich and famous, don't you? We can help you, Jordan, but you have to be a good boy for us."

"A very good bad boy."

Cold lips pressed against his pec, sliding down. He could imagine the stain: berry red? Baby pink? Strong hands held his shoulders, pinning them against the floor, and the woman continued to kiss down the front of his body. A male groan sounded from nearby, someone getting off on Jordan's suffering. The shuffle of skin being pulled by a fist made Jordan gag, as did the descent of the stranger's mouth. She paused at the waistband of his smalls, one tapered nail sliding beneath as she peeked down.

"My my. Very grown up for such a pretty young thing. What WILL we do with all of that?"

"Does he even have pubes yet?," a man asked, chuckling.

The waistband was being eased down, when a skirmish broke out among the group of would-be assailants. They were arguing at first, but then Jordan heard a slap, followed by another. Threats of lawsuits, of reneged business deals and public exposure, bandied about between the parties playing their roles. One man even addressed one of his fellows by the name, 'M-,' and Jordan's mind snapped back to those dark days like a fresh rubber band. The woman scrambled her way back to him, hissing at her companions, insisting on having her turn. J was determined not to use the safe-word. He was in control; he was..

"Get your fucking hands off him, bitch." Jordan's head twisted toward the voice, unable to see. Joey! Joey was going to save him. 

Wasn't he?

"I called dibs. I'm the one in charge here. He has to learn. This is the life he's chosen, and I - "

SMACK!

The blow landed true, the woman falling to the floor with a whimper. Jordan could imagine her resting a hand against her stinging cheek, composing herself. Her breaths came quick and shallow.

"Come here, Jordan." Joey's fatherly tone, used in innocence with his children, and also used to great effect with lovers and potentials. Warm, inviting, irresistible.

Jordan knee-walked toward the sound, Joey breathing threats against anyone else who tried to get to Jordan first. 

"It's just me. You trust me, don't you, Jordan?"

Jordan nodded. "Yeah."

"You want to be a big star, just like they promised, huh?"

Another nod.

"You know I can help you."

Tears prickled beneath the blindfold. 

"Yeah."

"But I need you to do something for me first."

Jordan's blood slowed, turning to sludge. Breathe..

Joey was getting himself ready. Jordan could smell him, smell *it*.

"Come on, Jordan. All that money, all those fans, pretty girls wanting you.." 

Jordan inched closer. His lips parted, waiting. Accepting.

"You know what they call people like you, Jordan?"

He waited.

"Whores."

His mouth closed.

"Whores, Jordan. Whores let people use their bodies in exchange for what they want. That makes you a whore."

"MUCH worse than a slut," one man chimed in.

Jordan shook his head no. 

"No?"

Joey stroked Jordan's hair, then pushed on the back of his head. 

"Come on, Jordan. If you do it right, it won't take long."

Jordan was so close to repeating the past, to bowing to the command of someone stronger than him. He felt like a nobody, at the mercy of a somebody.

"No."

Joey froze. Jordan felt the others moving towards him, but he struggled free of the restraints, yanking off the blindfold. 

"I said NO! NO to every fucking one of you!"

They were horrified. Naked and exposed, they felt as vulnerable as if they were tied up. 

"I don't deserve to be treated like this! I'm too young; I can't handle all this shit! You're a bunch of perverts!"

The assembled let out a collective gasp, but Jordan wasn't finished yet.

"Go.. Go FUCK yourselves! Fuck each other! Just leave me alone!"

One of the men tried sweet-talking him. "We thought you were special, Jordan; that you could handle it, better than the others - "

"I AM special! I'm better than this! I don't need to get off by forcing myself on anyone, unlike you freaks!" He pulled at the tatters of his clothing on the floor, covering himself the best he could.

Joey's face was neutral, but his eyes shone with pride.

"Any of you ever touch me again, I will break whatever fucking body part makes contact with me," Jordan barked, shaking visibly but emotionally finding firm ground.

The group moved in one last time, but Jordan dealt out a series of stinging slaps and shoves, leaving genuine marks. When he had a foot of space between him and any given assailant, he used the safe-word: "Popsicle!" 

The others quickly dressed and left the room, the door closing behind them. Joey had not said a word for several minutes, just taking it all in.

Jordan fell to his knees, tears streaming silently down his face. Joey crouched beside him. "Jord?"

"I'm okay. I'm.. I am. Really. That felt.."

He looked around at the room, feeling how safe it was. The bad people were gone; he'd fought them off. He'd won. 

"That's what it's all about, J. Feeling better. That's all I ever wanted."

Jordan eased onto his backside on the floor. Joey joined him. 

"If you need quiet, just say. If you need to talk, just talk."

Jordan took a few cleansing breaths. "Joey?"

"Yeah?"

"I think what I need is to.. to do something.. To feel like I can do what I want. I.."

"You want to be intimate?"

"Yeah. On my terms. Because I can."

Joey smiled. "No complaints from me. Just do what you feel."

Jordan let his instincts guide him. He wasn't ashamed. He wasn't afraid. All he felt was pleasure.. and love.

He knew it was a process; there was no definitive 'end' to his healing. The point was, it had begun.


	17. End Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan starts to get his life back - different, but no less meaningful than before. How will everyone react to the changes?

Jordan woke up feeling light, but not dizzy. His body was humming, nourished by clean foods, exercise, and love. Joey roused moments after he did, and tried to reach for Jordan's face - only his arm seemed to be stuck.

"What the - ?"

Jordan giggled. Joey's eyes narrowed in understanding. "You wore me out, slipped your restraints, and tied me up, didn't you?"

Jordan nodded.

"Well, well, well. Jordan Knight - you may have what it takes to be a dom after all."

"Shall we test that theory?"

Joey felt a hand pressed hard against his belly, pushing on his full bladder. "Jordan; fuck -- "

"Not yet. We ARE gonna have some fun, though."

One good turn deserves another..

\-------------------------------------

Joey finally let in the light.

Jordan saw, to his amazement, that they were in a small outbuilding annexing Joey's LA home. "We were that close to your kids the whole time - to your wife? Your neighbors?"

Joey nodded. "It's soundproof, J, and everyone knows not to disturb me in here."

"But - why would you have.. this.."

Joey arched a brow. "Play-house?"

"I.. Okay. So you're allowed to.."

"I'm a very lucky man. I have a lot of freedom."

Joey finished fixing them breakfast. 

"Jordan, I think you're ready to be reintroduced to the world."

He shook his head. "I don't think so. I need more time. I can't - "

"It's not a question, Jordan. It's got to happen. You can't live a new life in a little love-shack."

Jordan pouted. He knew Joey was right, but he was terrified.

"They'll be arriving soon."

His blood ran cold. "WHO?"

There was a knock at the door. "Everybody."

Joey opened the door, and in walked all the important people in J's life: family, bandmates, close friends. Joey held his hand.

"Uh, hi."

One by one, he was squeezed, coddled, or patted on the back by the visitors. Even his wife seemed glad to see him.

"I.."

"It's okay. I already know. I don't understand it all, but.. I've made peace with it. You need to be who you are."

Joey and his wife exchanged a smile. Jordan was a lucky man, too.

Jon spoke next. "So you and Joey, huh? How 'bout that."

Jordan blushed. 

"It's all good. I just want everyone I love to be happy. And to NOT know the details," he added with a laugh.

"Deal," his younger brother said.

The future was still uncertain - but Jordan had found a part of himself he hadn't realized needed to come out. He'd found he wasn't alone, and that sex could feel wholesome and positive. Above all, Jordan had learned that love could heal even the deepest wounds.

Joey's unusual rehab program had saved him.. and it was only the beginning.


End file.
